adma breathed in, her chest trembling slowly in and out. Rain trickled down her face, mingling with sweat and soaking into her thin robes, but she paid no heed. Her eyes were fixed on the derelict mansion that sprawled across the landscape like a crouched toad waiting for the foot to fall. She extended a shaking hand to push the gates and jumped as they creaked slowly open. Even as part of her quivered in fear, another more hidden part whispered, how cliché.

She fought to get a grip on her body and mind. The Dark Lord must not see her as a frightened schoolgirl, nor a sneering brat. She must appear calm, determined, adult. With these thoughts fixed in her mind, she strode up the driveway and straight to the front door. She ran up the steps and rapped on it, not allowing herself the time for doubt or second thoughts. Her stomach twisted into melting knots as she waited in trepidation.

Creaking footsteps approached the door. Padma's chest heaved rapidly in and out as someone fumbled with the catch. The door swung slowly open, and Padma's heart stopped. The impressive effect was only slightly spoiled by a yelp of pain from inside at the crunch of heavy wood on toes. Feeling slightly more heartened, Padma peered inside. A pale figure stood swearing in the shadows. It stopped as it saw her and straightened up suddenly.

"This way." The speaker was male, young and trembling. The attempt at a deep voice failed miserably. There was something familiar about it . . . she was sure she had heard it before. Then he stepped into the light. They both gasped at the same time.

"Malfoy?"

"Patil?"

"What — what are you doing here?" she asked, taken completely aback.. What on earth? He disappeared at the end of the school year! I thought he was dead.

"What about you, Gryffindor?" he snarled back, slipping his hand inside his robes. She acted faster, whipping her wand out and pointing it at him.

"Wrong twin," she said quietly, anger slowly beginning to rise in her. All this preparation, all this mental anguish, all this stress, only to be held back in the doorway by a spotty, runaway boy. "And you didn't answer my question. What is Draco Malfoy, top of the 'missing persons' list, doing in here?"

His grey eyes widened. "You — you don't know?"

"Know what?" she asked warily, her brow wrinkling in puzzlement.

"I'm a…" his voice lowered and his grey eyes stared at her defiantly, "a Death Eater." His recovered sense of superiority seemed to quiver a little at her lack of reaction.

Padma was a little surprised herself. My schoolmate is a Death Eater, she told herself. Nothing. Everything made a lot more sense this way — the rumours in the school of inside help as the cause of the attack, his disappearance, the reluctance to explain what had happened. Besides, she thought, I'm very nearly one myself.

She tossed her dark hair back over her shoulder. "Well, that's my aspiration too, so if you could just show me in…"

"You?" His eyes were almost falling out of his head. "You want to join the Dark Lord?"

"Well, I rather think so, yes," she replied testily. She'd had enough of this chit-chat; she wanted to get a move on before her resolve failed completely.

"Draco, why the delay?" called a silky voice. Padma jumped as she recognised her old Potions master's voice. "Ah, Miss Patil. Follow me." He swept down the hall, his cloak brushing a clear path through the dust. Padma swallowed, trying to ease her dry throat, before hurrying after him.

They walked on through the filthy corridors, avoiding those patches where the wood had rotted through. Dark beasts preyed on Padma's wilting mind. You'll fail. You won't hold your mind strong. He'll see your indecision.

I'm not undecided! she thought fiercely. I have thought this through, and it is the logical choice to make. The sensible choice. I want to do this!

So absorbed was she in this internal argument that she only just stopped herself colliding with Snape. He indicated a door to his left. Light flickered on the edges, and a low murmur of voices could be heard. Padma glanced at him uncertainly, nerves making a last stand for sanity. He raised his eyebrows at her, and she could almost hear his taunting thoughts; are you afraid, little girl? What a pity; maybe your twin would have been better…

Padma shoved the door open so hard it slammed into the wall. All heads immediately snapped over. Seven adult faces subjected her to a contemptuous scrutiny. She could feel the red climbing up her cheeks, but she refused to move. Her eyes searched the room for the man she was seeking, if man was the right term. A tall figure stood up from an armchair by the fire, and she resisted the impulse to run as he slowly approached her. The other occupants of the room all bowed their heads and muttered obsequiously as he passed. She willed her body to cease its trembling, but her eyes fell of their own accord to the floor. Logic and reason deserted her, leaving only terror.

"So," the Dark Lord breathed, "you have come." Unwillingly, she raised her eyes to meet his. Wild scarlet pupils met hers, paralysing her.

"Yes." She sweated with the effort of keeping the tremor from her voice. "I have come, my Lord." She felt light-headed, as though her brain was being swept with cobwebs.

"I am undecided as to whether to accept one so young," he mused. She could feel his breath on her quivering cheek before he strode away a few paces. "My last such initiate proved to be a terrible disappointment, is that not so, Draco?"

"Yes, my Lord," Draco said hoarsely. Padma jumped a little, so much on edge she was hanging on by her toes; she had not heard him come in.

"I will not disappoint you, my Lord," she said, her voice steadying a little. She twitched her head a little, trying to rid herself of the unusual sensations. Her breath caught as she realised the cause. Her eyes flickered back to the Dark Lord's.

"Really," he hissed. He walked a few feet away, and then whirled around. "Prove it."

The force of his mind entering hers nearly knocked her off her feet. Desperately, she threw up the last of those defences she had learnt against the flood of his mind. Now she could see the cracks, the flaws that he exploited, seeing her life, her aspirations, her dreams, her family… Everything swirled into a vortex and she could only stare helplessly at those blood-red eyes.

A sudden abatement sent her off-balance. She suppressed the impulse to clutch her head and roll up into a whimpering ball. She still had enough sense left in her to stand up straight and look as unaffected as possible.

"So… you have a sister in the Order of the Phoenix?" The Dark Lord's voice was smug, triumphant. Despair welled up inside her. I have failed, she thought bitterly.

"Yes, my Lord," she whispered. She flinched slightly as he took a step closer to her.

"You may be more useful than I thought," he said softly. "Give me your arm."

Padma's breath caught in her frozen throat. The moment had arrived. Wordlessly, she pushed up the sleeve of her robes, baring the skin underneath. She shivered as he wrapped his long fingers around her thin arm, the whiteness contrasting sharply against her brown. At the last second she closed her eyes, unwilling to witness this final step. She let out a painful gasp as searing agony jabbed through her forearm, burning and tearing the skin. Tears started to her eyes for the first time in years. The moment seemed to go on and on, before finally he released her. She pulled back, her large dark eyes fixed on the black skull that now disfigured her skin. Horror numbed her mind. This is what you want, remember? her last remaining rational thought screamed.

"You can go with Draco now," the Dark Lord declared dismissively. She nodded, unable to speak, and followed the boy out of the room.